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starryserenade · 1 year ago

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Myth and Magic Ch. 22: Magica

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: An ancient enemy reawakens

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Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

~~~~

His blood was still on her hands, knotting her fur with strains of scarlet and silver. She couldn’t move. Every now and then, a choked cry would make its way past her lips, but otherwise she was silent. Everything was silent. His voice was gone, and she’d never hear it again. She was desperate to preserve the memory of it, to seal his last words deep in her heart and mind for fear she might one day forget.

The clouds had parted that night, paving the way for the starlight that had caught him up in its grasp. This open sky lingered just past dawn, just long enough for the sunlight to come through and dye the snowscape a brilliant shade of pink. It fell upon Minnie and she blinked when she felt its warmth cross her face. Her heart had grown so cold, felt so numb, but she felt then the faintest shred of awakening, like the light had managed to melt through the icy wall.

She released a breath, and clutched at her heart. Oh…it hurt so much. The inclination to reach out for his hand, to dive into his arms for comfort…it was all still there. But he was gone, and she couldn’t. She was alone. She’d been trying to stand, but as those thoughts returned, another short wave of sobbing consumed her.

“I can’t…” she whimpered at last, her words taken up in the wind.

How could she be expected to carry on now, when her whole world had been returned and ripped away again, for good this time? Had it all been for nothing? Their first encounter and his rescue, all those stories and all those nights spent together? Their forgetting…and their finding each other all over again…falling all over again…was it all leading to this? Could fate really be so cruel?

The clouds began to return, and the air took a frigid turn, even colder than it had been before. Minnie thought she knew why now, though it was far too late for it to mean anything. As the light slipped away, she felt like the last lingering hints of Mickey’s presence did as well. The world’s warmth had been snuffed out.

A thought crossed her mind then. She could stay, she could…could let the cold consume her. And maybe then she could join him. But the thought had hardly formed, lingering on a trembling tear, before something flared in her grasp. She gasped lightly and opened her hand. In her palm rested the two objects Mickey had left with her, had pressed into her hands in his last moments. The sight of the charm tore her heart in pieces all over again, but it wasn’t what had flared.

Beside it was a small gem that she’d never noticed before. Mickey had held it out to her, but it had been so overshadowed in that moment that she’d not truly seen it. Now, it flickered with a gentle warmth, something like firelight, and a magic that was…well, familiar. Minnie swallowed, cupped her other hand lightly around its surface. She couldn’t explain it, could hardly describe the feeling, except that…it felt like him. Somehow. And she realized now that even among the frigid cold that had consumed all the world around her, not a single web of frost had formed on her fur.

“Oh, Mickey…” she breathed, bringing the object to her lips. Whatever it was, it held his magic, she was sure of it. Even now, he was keeping her safe.

Her own magic, now complete and fully formed, took that warmth and drew from within her the memories of its presence. Of him, and the soft brush of his hand against hers, of his wings folded about her, and his eyes, flooded with a light as free and open as the sky. Of the stories they’d once shared. She smiled softly, feeling the wind brush through her fur, frigid and yet tinged with a whisper of spring. Of hope.

The cold pressed in on every side, could still overtake her if she let it. But her grief had dissolved into something different, something powerful. She let out a quiet breath and lifted her eyes. Clouds had completely obscured the sun, and lightning flashed wildly in their depths. Only now, she knew it wasn’t quite lightning at all. The streams of light, branching out from the furthest reaches of the air stretched down like branches–like roots, magic flickering across the expanse. She’d come from there, had dove after him, cold and gravity be damned. The egg was still there. Her friends were still there. That…that monster…she was there, too.

There were people left to protect–people Mickey had loved dearly, and she’d loved alongside him. They deserved to remember, and to know how much he gave. They deserved to live , as he should have. He’d given her a second chance to help them.

And she would.

She rose to her feet. Her own magic had begun to boil, a deep current rushing to her fingertips. A greater understanding of her power had overtaken her, and the return of her memories had bridged the gap and returned the piece she was missing. She could feel it within her now, bubbling up inside, growing stronger with each moment. Swiftly, she brought her free hand above the relic and the fiery stone, and bound them together with a form of enchantment, then strung the piece safely around her hip. It pulsed warmly as she straightened, lifting her head.

The lake lay before her, frozen and blanketed in thick snow. Even the place where she and Mickey had broken through had already hardened, but the moment Minnie took a step on the ice, the whole surface shuddered. Another step and it groaned, and a deep line began to form. One more, and the entire lake appeared to splinter, and with a sound like thunder, the ice gave way to the water beneath, which rose up between the cracks like a thousand geysers and flooded the lake all over again. Minnie did not falter, feet passing seamlessly over the waves. Her body had taken on that transparent hue again, but it was a deep and furious shade of blue. All it took was an upward sweep of her palm and the water gathered together, bent and twisted and took shape, and rose up into the sky like a crystalline path of constant eb and flow. With two clicks of her tongue, Saoirse had emerged, mane and tail spraying behind her, nostrils flared as she approached Minnie.

Minnie set a hand to the kelpie’s muzzle, briefly touching her head to the creature, before looking back up at the sky.

The prison chamber was growing louder by the minute, the pixies’ wings creating something like the sound of a hive as they hovered in their cages, bell-like voices more frantic than ever. Surrounding them all, hundreds of eyes glittered in their glow, and Donald and Daisy were the focus of each and every one.

“I think I know what happened to your friends, Donald!” Daisy shouted, breathless and terrified, as she yanked him towards their singular point of escape. The Sidhe hissed, and burst into motion towards the two of them.

Donald let out a startled “WAK!” as Daisy tugged on his arm, scrambling to catch up to her pace, but when they’d jumped through the doorway and slammed the dungeon doors behind them, painfully aware of the creatures scratching to get through on the other side, he turned to her with an expression Daisy wasn’t very used to seeing.

Under most circumstances, many would consider Donald something of a coward. It didn’t take much to frighten him, or to send him squawking and running the other way the second something seemed a little too testy for his tastes. The first time he’d encountered a rabbit in the mortal realm, he’d darted behind Daisy and sat shivering there because he was certain it was some kind of demon creature, with those beady eyes and twitching nose and big, long ears – probably to listen in on people’s nightmares, he’d said.

But that was the thing Daisy herself had come to know about him. There were a lot of little things that frightened her dear, temperamental faerie. But when it came to the things that mattered–those rare, big moments that would have sent anyone else flying for the hills…well, sometimes he’d act in a way that was surprising.

He’d been the reason when, after months of being told by everyone she knew that Minnie’s very existence was nothing more than some kind of mad nightmare, and being moments away from believing it herself, she’d finally had the assurance that it had all been very real.

Donald had remembered her, that flustered little guard from the faerie realm had remembered her. And he had cared enough to escape, to find her, when everything had gone wrong. He had admitted more than once his leaving had felt a whole lot like running away. But that, Daisy thought, was a very dumb way of looking at things.

If facing the unknown just to warn her wasn’t brave, she didn’t know what was.

He had that same look in his eyes now, as he’d had when he’d burst through her window and sent her all screaming against a wall. Like he was terrified, and uncertain, and yet undeniably determined all at once. This was the worst possible time, but it still sent Daisy’s heart pounding against her chest.

“What’s that look for?!” she sputtered, cheeks already reddening. They should be running, but she had the sense he wouldn’t follow if she did.

“We can’t just leave them!!” he squawked, nodding back towards where they’d come. He was shaking all over, but he was angry too. That was something they were often good at together.

“Well, what can WE do??” Daisy gasped, yelping as the door behind them both jolted.

Donald got a twinkle in his eye and his glow got a bit brighter, sparked a little bit wildly. Daisy’s eyes widened. “NO.”

He nodded rapidly, a mad grin making its way across his bill.

“Donald, your magic is crazy .”

“Uh-huh,” he kazooed proudly. And winked as he went to undo the latch. “That’s what I’m countin’ on!

The moment he unlocked the door, releasing a flare of magic as he did, he jumped back towards a side wall and drew Daisy with him. The door flew open, and half of the Sidhe at the front were too slow to stop themselves from catapulting into the wall beyond, crumpling to the floor in a twitching heap of feathers. The other half were met with a similar fate, as the door that had swung open for them hit the wall then bounced back into their faces, rendering them unconscious as they, too, fell to the floor.

Daisy watched with wide eyes as Donald bounded between the piles of fallen fae, still grinning wildly, and now horribly proud of himself.

“How did you know that would happen?” she breathed, being a bit more cautious with her step.

“I didn’t! S’just bad luck!” He announced triumphantly and chuckled that wheezy, mischievous little chuckle of his. Then promptly tripped over a wing.

“Uhhh-huhh,” Daisy snickered, as she helped him to his feet. “Well, I suppose you do have more than enough of that to go around.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but Daisy left a light peck on his cheek that quickly turned his frustration to dizzy bliss.

The pixies jingled a much happier sort of ring as the two of them entered again, and both ducks beamed up at the tiny fae. “Oh, dear, how will we ever free them all?” Daisy muttered, looking again at the vast number of cages that surrounded them. She had the lingering feeling that those Sidhe wouldn’t stay put forever.

“We don’t need to free them all…” he answered, distracted as he used his magic to try to mess with one of the cage’s locks. “I know this one.” The little green pixie waited eagerly inside, hovering off the bottom of the cage. Then the tiny door swung open, knocking Donald hard in the forehead, and she darted out with a twinkle of happiness, taking little notice as he rubbed the sore spot. She looked around briefly, as if searching for something very specific, before her gaze landed on Donald again, upon which she grinned widely, then hovered up to him and landed on his bill. Her eyes squinted as she studied the feathers just above his eyes, and Donald swelled with pride at having rescued this small thing, who he was now certain had only fluttered up to check on his tiny wound.

“Awww, gee, it’s just a–WAK!”

He squawked loudly, and Daisy laughed, as the pixie plucked a feather from his forehead and darted off again without a word of thanks.

“YOU’RE WELCOME!” he called after her, and the only look she tossed him was one of minor exasperation. Donald grumbled to himself, and rubbed his head. “Darn no-good pixies, why I oughtta…”

It took only a moment for her to begin darting from cage to cage, using the feather to unlock each one. Pixies flew out in droves, their combined chatter sounding across the chamber like a lovely little song. Daisy beamed as she watched them, these flurries of color flying in arching paths as they embraced and cheered and greeted each other with the tiniest shimmering tears. Donald had been fuming, but blushed when he glanced her way.

“Oh, it’s just wonderful, Donald!” she exclaimed, eyes still locked on the scene.

“Huh? Oh, heh, yeah? You think so?” He inched a bit closer to her, cheeks glowing a very bright shade of red.

“Yes, I do,” Daisy laughed, and when she turned around she gave him a rather large smooch, and then cradled his cheek in her hands. “You were very brave.”

“I was, huh?” He puffed up his chest, and his wings arched out behind him ever so slightly.

A chilled gust of wind swept around them then, carried through the tunnel from where they’d come. It froze their elation cold, carried with it an air of something no one could begin to describe. Whatever it was, it sent them all silent. Even the pixies’ wings skipped a beat, before sending them fluttering gently to the floor. Their light flickered, and Donald shuddered then held a hand to his head.

“Donald!” Daisy called softly, in a rare moment of concern. It wasn’t that she never cared, it’s just that…well, Donald was both accident prone and dramatic. But this seemed to be something else entirely. “What’s the matter?”

“I…I dunno,” he mumbled at last, after a long gap of silence. Daisy followed his eyes and found him staring at the green pixie, who had fallen to her knees and sat silent with her hands in her lap, wings drooping behind her. A twinkle of a teardrop fell from her eye, and then she buried her face in her hands. The other pixies followed with tears of their own, sobbing in a jingle that itself created a disheartening song. The first one, though–she seemed most heartbroken of them all. “Just keep hearing somethin’ about…someone’s gone… he’s gone. But I dunno who they mean.”

Daisy was quiet, then drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, Donald…you don’t think-?!”

He scratched his head, furrowing his brow. There was something gnawing at the corner of his mind, he just couldn’t quite place it. “Don’t think what?”

Daisy didn’t respond, only jabbed him with her elbow and glared his way before whirling back around. “We should find Minnie.”

In her panic, Daisy had forgotten all about the Sidhe waiting on the other side of the door. When she opened it, and came face to face with one such creature rising to its feet, she let out a piercing scream and stumbled back. The dark fae hissed and rose up to strike her, but then came a beam of light so bright that it screeched and covered its eyes, all but blinded. The others behind it were similarly met with a series of painful attacks–of ice and water and thorns, and all manner of natural things–and Daisy lay gasping as the pixies around them buzzed and cast out these flares of magic. Their cheeks all shone a collective shade of fiery red, and as the green pixie came flying up beside them, Daisy could just make out the furious look written across her small features.

“COME ON!” Donald quacked, grabbing her hand and yanking her to her feet, then racing through the hall, dodging the Sidhe who were now far too preoccupied to pay them any mind.

“Th-they got over that quickly,” she gasped, narrowly avoiding tripping or colliding with a wall or struggling Sidhe on multiple occasions. The sounds of screeching and jingling all mingled together in a nightmarish bout of chaos began to fade as they made their way back to the ground level of the castle. “They seemed so devastated just moments ago! Now they just seem…mad.”

Donald snorted, squinting through the dark of the stairway. “That’s pixies for ya. Can only feel one feelin’ at once. That’s how they got out of the whole mind-sweepin’ mess in the first place–spell mighta worked for a minute or two, but the second even a little thought of some other sort of feelin’ set in, they’d switch right back to the way they were before. Kinda cheatin’ if you ask me but… that’s prob’ly why they were locked up.”

“Oh…must have been something terrible to make them so upset just now…”

“Yeah, guess so.”

“Do you think they’ll tell us what happened?”

“Dunno, maybe.”

“Would they really know, just like that, if someone…well, if someone…you know…”

“Not sure.”

“What if it was someone we-?”

“WOULDJA CUT IT OUT?!” Donald exploded suddenly, stopping so fast that Daisy kept going and stumbled forward. Which ended just fine for her, but less so for Donald, who broke her fall and fell on his face, hitting his chin on an upper stair and stuttering angrily as Daisy dusted herself off and steadied her footing. He climbed to his feet, his face almost as red as the pixies’ had been. “I DUNNO ANYTHIN’, OKAY DAISY?! Feels like Iike I should though…Like I’m forgetting something or…or someone…really important…but I … I don’t remember…” His voice, broken as it already was, hitched more than usual and he turned his face away. The anger in his tone gradually fizzled into something like guilt. “I don’t even know what happened, but it feels like I should’ve been there…been there to help him.”

His eyes widened as he finished, like the words had revealed the faintest hint of recollection before he’d even noticed it himself.

Daisy was good at a lot of things, but keeping from stating the obvious was not one of them. She looked at Donald then, with a good amount of sympathy but a greater amount of fear, and uttered a quiet whisper.

“Help who, Donald?”

Her question wasn’t answered.

The pixies had caught up to them by now, came fluttering up with faces that were again settled in a sad sort of look. They’d hardly reached the ducks when a laugh sounded from above them. And behind them. And all around them. Chilling, wicked, ancient, and terrifying.

Like a nightmare they’d all had once upon a time, that had been long forgotten and only now had risen back to the surface, the knowledge of her returned to them. No one spoke, and yet somehow the same name echoed in everyone’s minds.

~~~~

MAGICA! Minnie didn’t know her but she did. She knew her through the stories and the memories that came racing through her head. To whom those recollections belonged, she didn’t know, and she thought it would be useless to determine this now. Her own memories were enough to prove to her how truly wicked this person–if they could even be called that–truly was. She had taken her Mickey from her. Her dear, sweet Mickey. No one with a shred of a soul could have ever wished him gone.

Saoirse’s hooves clipped each raindrop as though the storm was in itself a ladder to the heavens. Open air became fog as they entered the clouds, and light flashed within them every few moments, the great tree’s roots sparking with the remnants of its fading magic. Minnie yelped as her steed just barely dodged a snaking shadow, and she looked back behind and below them to see what it was they’d nearly collided with.

Her vision steadied and she drew in a breath, eyes widening. The roots themselves were growing–that was what had flown past them, wood creaking and groaning as it stretched downwards towards the ground, towards the mortal realm. She didn’t know why, but they seemed to be searching. Desperately reaching for earth. They pierced the shroud in a writhing burst of misty ribbons, and in the gaps they left in the clouds, Minnie heard a song. She knew those voices, she realized. They had saved her once before.

Saoirse whinnied and Minnie drew back, whispering a quiet word of calming. Her hair had long since unraveled from its braids and now whipped behind her, lashed by wind as she looked about.

This was the place they’d been before, before she dove after Mickey. Only it was darker now, surrounded by storm clouds that swirled with a strange kind of purple light. The winding roots that surrounded them still flashed too, as they had before. But that brighter light–the pale blue that seemed so much friendlier–was growing faint. In one of the brighter bursts, Minnie spotted them–two of the three sirens on the island where the Egg still rested. Their voices were strained, but still raised in song, their hands lifted to the sky.

That strange rabbit was still there too, though he now sat restrained by vines undoubtedly summoned by one of the fae. A rush of anger swept through her suddenly at the sight of him, but Minnie swallowed her rage and directed Saoirse towards the place, careful to avoid that faerie’s eyes. He was watching her, she could feel it. Wanted to say something, but that hardly mattered to her. She had no interest in hearing any of it.

She alighted from the Kelpie as silently as she could, worried she might frighten her friends and break their concentration. But Morgana, Clarice on her shoulder, turned her head to look the moment she set foot on solid ground, a very tired look in her eyes. Her gaze darted to Minnie’s hands, and then back up to Minnie’s face, and a note of bitter sadness made its way into her melody. Then she released a particularly powerful note, and shook her head, drawing in a breath. She kept her hands raised, trembling with exertion as they continued to preserve the spell.

“Minnie…”

“Not now,” Minnie choked before Morgana had a chance to say anything more. If she allowed so much as a flicker of emotion in, she knew it would consume her. “What’s happening? What can I do?”

Morgana studied her face, carefully considering her words, before blinking and shaking her head, turning her eyes to a storm cloud that had formed above their heads. Dark magic flashed in its depths, and every now and then the mist would part to reveal a shape underneath, something like a cocoon. “A few hours ago, a strange Sidhe came flying through. Made its way to that branch up there and hasn’t come down. We’re certain it’s–”

“Magica,” Minnie whispered faintly..

Morgana pursed her lips. “Y…Yes. She’s changing, breaking free from the spell that binds her. We’re trying to slow it down, but the egg…”

They all glanced towards it, and found it pulsing weakly. Coldly. The ember at its center had dimmed, and the watery shell had begun to turn to ice. Minnie swallowed.

“Minnie, listen to me,” Morgana spoke quietly. “We haven’t got much time. You won’t be able to save the egg, not without–” Minnie’s eyes widened, looked as though some wall was about to be broken down. Morgana lowered her gaze. “...Not…not now. But–”

“There has to be something you can do…”

A wind howled through the air, as frigid as the atmosphere that settled after those words, and all eyes turned to face the one who’d spoken. It was the rabbit, his eyes downcast and ears drooping, revealing the words had been said more to himself than to anyone else. He was still bound by those vines, wings pressed tightly against his sides. His bonds tightened then, as Morgana narrowed her eyes. He gasped lightly and looked up at them.

Minnie eyed him closely, feeling that heat rise up again in her chest. She knew so very little about this faerie before her, but she knew enough to realize he’d played a part in all this. Power rippled at her fingertips, boiled within her. There was so much more she could do with it now, and she wondered briefly what it would feel like to release all her anger on someone who really, truly, did deserve it. Didn’t she deserve to make him understand?

What happened then, she wasn’t entirely sure, but she saw him shrink away. In that moment, the fog that had clouded her vision with rage slowly faded, and she let out a soft breath. Maybe it was her power at work, or simply her heart–most likely, it was both–but she saw a look in his eyes that made her feel like she’d been doused with cold water. And she knew at once that in some sort of way, he did understand. Had felt this sort of pain before.

Her power shifted, settled, and she took a step towards him, staring warily.

“Minnie?” Morgana asked quietly, and Clarice gasped lightly, bringing her hands to her mouth. Minnie didn’t hear either of them.

“You lost someone too,” she whispered gently, and he looked back up at her with wide eyes. He stayed that way for a moment, then squeezed them shut.

“I made a mistake,” he gasped at last, in a burst that had been held in far too long. “All this time, I thought I could get her back. Magica promised me…but she…she was responsible for all of it, wasn’t she? I believed her and now…” He drew in a sharp breath, and his voice broke. “Mickey didn’t deserve this. You…you didn’t deserve this. I never meant for things to get so bad, I swear…I’m just…I’m..I’m sorry…I’m so, so sorry…”

She took another step, with an expression no one could read. “Sorry?”

He didn’t respond then, just let his head drop. Waited for her to reach him. There seemed a pocket of steady magic around her, like the wind was suddenly unable to touch her form. The amulet at her hip pulsed evenly.

“Sorry won’t bring him back, you know.”

They were cold words, but not quite frozen. When he lifted his head again, she was there in front of him, but with kinder eyes than anyone had anticipated. Minnie herself wasn’t sure how she managed to shove aside all the hurt and the anger and pain. It still lingered just under the surface, but something kept it tempered. “But…” she continued, in a warmer tone. “Neither will hurting you.”

She set a hand to the vines that restrained him and they loosened, falling away and withering in the wake of the cold. The faeries behind her drew in a breath, but Minnie wasn’t concerned. The rabbit–Oswald’s–eyes were wide with grief and guilt, accompanied only by the shock of her action. He stared at her then, studied her face for a few moments.

Then he blinked and shook his head. “You’re stronger than me,” he muttered, and Minnie smiled ever so softly.

“I just made a promise, that’s all.”

Her voice was tight with emotion, but when thunder rumbled around them, she swallowed and held out her hand. “You know Magica better than most,” she stated plainly, though Oswald lowered his eyes in shame. “What’s she planning?”

“She told me it was peace,” he chuckled, ruffling his raven-black feathers. “Said she was tired of the faeries hogging all the magic in the world, never using it to help the mortals. Wanted to take it all and start over. She believed if she had all the magic in the world, she could reshape it. Make things however she wanted. But the dragons…their ‘magic had the power to imprison her. That’s why she wanted both of you gone. She knew you’d been chosen.”

“But you’re a faerie. You believed her?”

His eyes got sad again, soft but broken. “It’s like you said,” he uttered gently. “I lost someone I loved. A mortal. The faeries wouldn’t help…Fand wouldn’t help…maybe couldn’t, I don’t know. The point is, Magica said she could . And I’m ashamed to say it, but I would have done anything. I…I did do anything–everything–she asked. But it was never enough.”

Minnie pursed her lips. Wondered briefly what she might have done if someone had told her she could bring Mickey back. Was there such a power out there, truly–?

“She was never going to help me,” Oswald added firmly, a little too abruptly, as if he saw the look in Minnie’s eyes begin to wander. “I see that now. All she wants is power, as much of it as she can get. She’ll turn both worlds into wastelands to get it. And with Mickey gone…she’s won half the battle.”

A chill ran down Minnie’s spine. She knew this already, had known it the moment the light left Mickey’s eyes. But to hear it said out loud, so plainly…it stung. That was the reality of it. As much as she wanted to grieve, his death meant far more than her own pain.

“S-so…” she managed, drawing in a deep breath to keep from dissolving into tears again. “What else…what else can we do?”

“Well,” Oswald started, a bit more gently this time. “She wanted you both gone. You’re still one of the dragons’ chosen ones. That’s got to count for something.”

“Minnie,” someone interrupted, and they both looked to find Morgana standing above them. She knelt, and looked to Minnie. “If I may… I have something to confess.”

She sighed deeply and smoothed her dress. “I was there,” Morgana breathed. “The first time Magica emerged, back in the days of legend. Someone was taken from me then, and all I wanted was to forget. Magica made that easy… too easy. I was one of the first to join her ranks.”

Minnie let out a quiet breath, watching as the faerie’s eyes took a sadder turn than Minnie had ever seen them before. She took her hand. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I never had reason too,” Morgana continued, and though Minnie didn’t quite believe that was true, she didn’t argue. It was rare to see Morgana nervous about much of anything, and it was a rare moment that seemed something deserving of silence. “But now I feel you should know…when the dragons joined the fight, it was Lir who freed the Sidhe from Magica’s control. He had the power to restore their memories, and he restored mine. Minnie,” she spoke firmly, but with a sense of great urgency. “That power rests in you now. I’ve seen you use it before, in the battle back at your castle. The rain you summoned…it made the soldiers remember. “

Everyone got quiet then. It was Oswald who spoke next, in a timid voice

“If she can free the Sidhe…it would cut Magica’s power in half. We might stand a chance.”

Morgana didn’t utter another word, but she nodded firmly. Minnie’s eyes had gotten wide.

She could feel it, the magic they kept assuring her she had. Of course it had rested within her for a while, pieces of it at least. But it was wild now, untamed, ruled by her heart which was anything but calm. It was a miracle she’d made it up here to begin with, and even that was little more than an act of explosive emotion. The prospect of choosing to wield her abilities now, in such an act of concentrated skill, terrified her. She couldn’t think clearly, was already barely keeping from dissolving into a mess of tears. She couldn’t–

“I-”

The air went still, felt as though everything had been silenced, suspended. Everyone drew in a breath collectively, their eyes growing wide, fur and feathers rising in dark premonition. From above them came a deep, garbled sound. Like laughter, only void of joy.

Minnie’s heart skipped a beat. They were out of time. They were out of time, and she was nowhere near ready. She glanced helplessly at Morgana but for once, the faerie seemed equally terrified. Her eyes darted to the cocoon, then to the egg. The ember had gone out, and it was frozen over. Its magic was gone.

Above their heads, the cocoon grew darker, drew in the stormclouds surrounding its form. It pulsed like a heartbeat, and with each one a twisted silhouette could be seen writhing inside. The cocoon shuddered, and in the next moment a wing, flickering with tongues of blue flame, pierced its surface. The faeries cried out and shielded their faces. Minnie reached for them instinctively, and a wall of mist appeared to shield them from the heat. Another wing broke through, with scales like glittering shards of ice. Minnie gasped and fumbled for the amulet, nearly overcome by the frigid burst that followed. A warmth surrounded her the moment she did, kept the cold at bay just enough for her to gather herself and watch as the rest of the cocoon melted and dripped away, revealing the form underneath.

She was beautiful in a terrifying manner, with sharp, jagged features and a slender form. Two horns spiraled upwards from her head, around which midnight strands of hair fell like night. A long dress of what seemed to be dark, black scales flashed madly as it whipped around in the wind, and deep violet brooch gleamed at its neckline.

No one seemed able to move, until she opened her eyes. In that flash of teal–a color so intense it could have burned and frozen a person all at once–everyone in all the world cried out in pain. Minnie wasn’t sure how she knew this, but as she keeled over with the rest of her companions, clutching at her skull, she thought she could feel them somehow. Thousands of voices, of minds recalling a single name through the depths of time.

It was Minnie who spoke it first, unsure yet of her intention in doing so–whether it was shock or fear or rage…or some thread of fate that demanded it said out loud. Her voice trembled as she spoke, lifting her head to the witch hovering above their heads in a cloud of chaos.

“ Magica …”

She had been admiring herself, lifting her hand and turning it every which way, and running her fingers through her hair. But when Minnie spoke, Magica took pause, and smiled. Her eyes gleamed dangerously, and she turned her head just about as slow as a person was able, before her stare landed on Minnie. She cocked her head, and chuckled lightly.

“You…” she began, in a narrow tone. Minnie drew in a breath and did her best to hold her gaze. Tension crackled like lightning in the air. “You are…terrified , aren’t you, little girl?”

In a blink, Magica appeared before her, and Minnie yelped, stumbling backwards as the witch drew in close. The other faeries reached for her, but with a single flick of Magica’s wrist, they found themselves silenced and held back by a howling wind.

Magica leaned in, her eyes scouring every inch of Minnie, who could hardly breathe as she stared back. When she found Minnie’s eyes, her grin widened and she stretched out a hand. Clawed fingers met Minnie’s cheek, traveled down to her chin, and she winced, feeling a shudder of frigid cold rush through her veins–that sense of being frozen from the inside out. It was all she could do to gather the strength to summon her hand in an effort to push those icy claws away. But Magica caught her wrist and Minnie cried out, unable to resist the spread of frost that branched out from her touch.

“Ah, so simple! ” Magica hissed, eyes flaring as Minnie writhed in her grip, body slowly overtaken by the ice. “Took those fools far too long, but I suppose if you want something done right…” Minnie let out a sharp cry as the cold deepened, reached further into her bones. Her legs buckled and Magica followed her when she fell, laughing wickedly and never once loosening her grip. “Lucky for me, you were even easier to catch than your little boyfriend!”

Minnie’s eyes shot up at that, wounded, and Magica laughed again. “Oh, I’m sorry, was that indelicate? It really was such a valiant effort on his part. You should have seen the look in his eyes. So full of hope, even when I–-well, ha!--I suppose you already know that part. Poor child really thought he saved you.” Magica’s hand tightened around Minnie’s wrist, even as a dark fire began to blaze in Minnie’s own expression. “Really is such a pity his death was wasted so.”

There was a blaze of…of something like flames then, that erupted and burst into the air. Magica screeched and drew back, clutching the hand that had held Minnnie. It was consumed by fire for a moment, before she fanned her fingers and the flames were taken in by her magic. But Minnie was free, and as she lay gasping, that gentle warmth surrounded her again, helped take away the worst of the cold’s bite.

The faeries rushed to her now. Clarice was quickly muttering some sort of spell, something to heal the place on Minnie’s wrist which was worst wounded by the ice. Morgana took her arm gently over her shoulder and helped her to her feet. Oswald stepped in front of them all, and spread his wings protectively.

Magica had recovered now, but her expression had changed. Gone was the prideful, aloof manner with which she moved. Her eyes blazed, and her teeth were bared in shock and fury, and a touch of disbelief.

“That was-!” she hissed, and her eyes fell to the charm at Minnie’s hip, then darted to the place where Oswald stood.

“ You IDIOT! ” she screeched, and he flinched but straightened his back and stared her down. She rushed again for Minnie, who gasped lightly, but the three faeries held out their hands and summoned a barrier of their own. Magica slashed at it once, growled, and then lifted her head and…and laughed.

It was more chilling than the first time, more crazed. Morgana squeezed Minnie’s arm reassuringly and Clarice whispered a word of reassurance in her ear.

“We’re right beside you!” her tiny voice piped up, and Morgana nodded, though she herself still seemed uneasy.

“You’re all FOOLS!” Magica screeched, and a dark cloud of magic began to flicker among her fingers. Morgana’s eyes got wide, and she shoved Minnie away.

Oswald, in what Minnie took as an act of sheer cowardice, took a tentative step back, then spread his wings and took to the sky, narrowly dodging the bolts of lightning that had begun to gather around Magica as he disappeared into the clouds. Minnie thought to shout after him, but Morgana’s voice stopped her short.

“Minnie, take the egg! Get out of here! Don’t–”

“NOTHING CAN STOP ME!” Magica raised her voice, power crackling all about her, and then she thrust her hands towards the two faeries, who screamed and collapsed. Minnie reached for them, watching in horror as the magic drew the light from their eyes and the color from their skin. And she recognized, as their wings changed into something dark and tattered, what Magica was turning them into.

“No…” she breathed, trembling in the shock and fear of it all. The gravity of the moment hit her hard a moment later, and she scrambled backwards towards the now-crystalline egg, feeling as though following Morgana’s instructions was all she had the power to do. But even that wasn’t meant to be.

“Ah, ah!,” Magica cackled, and with another flick of her wrist, a bolt shot out from her hand and struck the egg. Minnie leapt for it, but too late. It shattered as she reached it, the shell crumbling into pieces that she desperately tried to sweep into her arms. Saoirse reappeared from where she’d been resting in the clouds, the kelpie galloping up to Minnie–now bent over the remains of what she thought was their final hope–and nudged her gently. Tried to get her to join her and escape. Minnie shook her head lightly, and set a hand to the kelpie’s muzzle, whispering a soft command that was not quickly obeyed.

But by the time Minnie lifted her head, her friends had been transformed. Saoirse whinnied, a desperate sound, as the newly-formed Sidhe grabbed Minnie roughly and yanked her to her feet. Then the kelpie turned and fled, leaving Minnie with her captors and the witch. She glanced at them, tried to catch a glimpse of even a shred of emotion left over in their eyes, but there was nothing.

Minnie glared up at Magica. “What do you want?!” she spat, that heat rising to her cheeks again. This all seemed senseless, meaningless. “Power? What good will that do you when the whole world is gone!”

“Oh, darling,” Magica laughed, smoothing her feathers which had gotten fluffed in her rage. “Power is about so much more than that. Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to take control, to change your fate.” She eyed Minnie carefully and when her eyes fell, Magica grinned. “Ah, I thought you’d understand . ”

She came close to Minnie again, glared at her with those glittering eyes.

“You see, I know better than anyone the lies they’ll tell you around here, to keep you in line with what they want you to be. In my time, faeries and mortals shared the world. Lived together in what others would call, ‘harmony.’ But I alone saw the truth, how the faeries used our tales, our stories–took the magic we had conjured, and used it for themselves. Only themselves.” She scoffed, and growled. “Think of what we mortals could have done with magic like theirs! Riches and wonder and beauty beyond your wildest dreams. We could be so much more than simple humans! But of course, when I finally stood up to them, those selfish little insects refused my one request!”

Her face twisted again into that dark look. “All I wanted was the magic that was rightfully mine,” she hissed, and Minnie shuddered. “But they said it wasn’t for a mortal to use enchantments in such a way, that it wasn’t a power they could give.” Her voice became venomous then, the look in her eyes endlessly dark. “But they were lying. I knew they were lying. You’re proof of that, little princess. They could have given me the power you have now, but no…no, I had to take what I deserved. So all that magic us mortals had given them...I reclaimed it. The rest of our kind should have thanked me but they, too, became my enemy. Helped those dragons–those fools, Fand and Lir–to seal me away…but…not forever…not anymore…”

She drew in a deep and shuddering breath, as though the excitement was too much for her to bear.

“I would have liked to take more time with Fand’s little servant,” she whispered coldly, turning her attention back to Minnie. “Oh, how wonderful it would have been…to see the faeries’ prized prince clinging so desperately to life, only to lose it at my hand.” She got a shaky, mad look in her eyes, and Minnie’s chest tightened. Anger burned in her heart, tears stinging in her eyes and slowly, as Magica continued, her gaze traveled up to meet the witch head on. Magica caught her look, and got a strange gleam in her own eyes. “Hm…though, of course, I suppose it wasn’t entirely his fault. The poor faerie hardly knew the gift he’d been granted. But you… ”

With a wave of her hand, the faeries released Minnie and took a step back, leaving her standing to face Magica alone.

“You understand me darling, surely,” the witch whispered, her tone eerily soft and tantalizing. “Such power like ours…together…why, we could do the impossible.”

Minnie tensed, sharp refusal lingering on her tongue. But then Magica leaned in, murmured in her ears.

“ You could bring him back…”

She gasped involuntarily, unable to keep it within. No…no…Oswald had warned her about this. It was a lie, all of it. It had to be. She’d be a fool to even entertain the thought and yet…oh, she could never have imagined how hard it would be to turn away from the idea, even knowing full well she was being baited, used.

Her hands clutched at her chest, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to shove the temptation away. Only, Magica reached out then, as Minnie’s amulet released a hot flare. Took the fire in her hands this time, though it thrashed more wildly than any natural flame. And when Minnie opened her eyes…

Their gaze met for only a moment. His eyes were as furious as the fire that made up his form, full of rage and sadness, until they landed on her. And then they melted, widened. She reached for him, and he for her, though his lips were parted in something like dismay. He shook his head ever so faintly, even as Minnie breathlessly formed his name.

Then Magica flicked her wrist, and the fire was swept up within her palm. He was gone, and Minnie cried out in a broken sob as her hand swept through open air.

Grief clouded her thoughts all over again, and her legs gave out beneath her. Her hands were trembling, one clawing at her heart and the other held lightly to her head. Nothing made sense. Things that had once been so clear now seemed hazy and uncertain. Right and wrong and all she’d ever lived for, it had all come together in one twisting stormcloud in her mind. Was this how Oswald had been tricked, she wondered? Is this how he had felt, what he’d tried to warn her about? But then…he’d lied to her before, too.

Magica knelt alongside her, clicked her beak in something like sympathy. It wouldn’t have sounded convincing even to the most gullible of persons, but Minnie was struck with the spell of heartache, and that sort of pain does stranger things to the mind than magic ever could.

“What…what would I have to do..?” Minnie’s voice was hardly a whisper itself, trembling and uncertain. But the smallest hint of satisfaction crossed Magica’s face the moment the question was asked.

“Oh, darling,” Magica answered with dark, measured words.. “I ask for nothing more than your power–your Tear–given willingly, and that…that jewel at your hip there. I’ll need both if I’m to bring him back to you, you see.”

Minnie blinked, looking helplessly up at Magica, who had stretched out her hand. Her heartbeat quickened, the thought of taking Mickey again in her arms overtaking her every rationale. She had never asked for this power, or this destiny. Mickey hadn’t either, had never done a thing but try to help. And yet this thread of fate had claimed him anyway.

It wasn’t fair.

Minnie opened her mouth, let out a light and shaky breath. “I…”

“ ENOUGH, MAGICA!” Came a furious cry, and before Minnie knew what had happened, Magica was screeching, swarmed by a cloud of something Minnie couldn’t immediately make sense of. In the chaos, two faeries landed beside Minnie, flanked her on either side and held out their wings to keep her protected from the Sidhe who had set their sights on the others in Magica’s moment of distraction.

The daze persisted, and then someone…or someones… threw their arms around her, held her so tight she could hardly breathe. It wasn’t until she heard the crying that she recognized Daisy’s voice, and slowly, Minnie began to sort through her scattered thoughts. Came to realize what she’d been about to do, how much she’d been about to sacrifice.

“Minnie, oh, I was so scared! Something felt wrong and, and then that rabbit told us what was happening, and, oh!” she squeezed Minnie even tighter, sniffling into her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re all right…”

“We came back t’help you, auntie Minnie!” came a smaller voice and Minnie realized it was little Max, his small arms wrapped around one of hers. Saoirse whinnied and knelt beside him, and lifted her head proudly towards the others she had brought.

Minnie blinked away guilty tears as she lifted her eyes to all the others who had joined her. Donald was one of the faeries at her side, squawking furiously at the possessed Morgana and Clarice. Goofy and Clarabelle stood hand in hand behind Minnie, facing Magica all the while.

But it was Oswald who stood just in front of her, his fists clenched as he held out his wings and stared Magica down. He glanced back for only a moment to catch Minnie’s eyes.

“Don’t let her trick you,” he told her gently. “Mickey believed in you…”

Donald glanced back at her then, along with a little green pixie who had just joined their ranks. And Goofy and Clarabelle knelt for just a moment to set their hands on her shoulder. Daisy and Max hugged her warmly, and Minnie’s eyes widened, hardly able to fight off the emotion that flooded her heart as all their voices joined together.

“...And so do we.”

They’d hardly spoken when Magica let out a particularly furious screech, cutting through the noise of the storm and the pixies and every other thing. It caught everyone’s attention, and she threw out both her arms in a massive burst of fire and ice that knocked back most of the pixies.

“Oh, how TOUCHING!” she spat, eyes glowing that frozen shade of blue. Tendrils of ice leapt from her fingertips, snaking at lightning speed towards every one of Minnie’s companions who had not yet been turned. They shouted, bodies enveloped in the cold, left writhing and completely helpless. Even Daisy and Max were torn from Minnie’s grasp, even as she tried to cling to them. Then Magica’s stare fell on Minnie alone. “I tried to do this the easy way, princess. ”

Darkness spread through those veins of ice, and each of Minnie’s friends gasped as it pierced their hearts, began to cast a shadow over their eyes as it had Morgana and Clarice. And now, through the clouds above them, countless other silhouettes came flying into view, shaking off elemental wounds and looking as menacing as ever. Minnie’s tail lashed behind her. Sidhe. All of them. Only now she knew more than ever, each and every one was a person. A soul. And…

She could feel them.

Magica was cackling, but Minnie hardly heard it. Morgana’s words rang in her head, of the power she possessed. Of memories. And she could hear them now, see them in little flashes in her mind when she closed her eyes. Some were happy– others sad, but they were all so, so real . Meaningful. Like sparks of color in the dark of night. Calling out to her, begging to be released again. The hearts of their owners were all but empty without them.

“So what is it, little girl?!” Magica laughed wickedly. “Are you ready to give me what I want?”

Minnie opened her eyes, and they lit up with a glow of their own–a brilliant turquoise crashing against the still-brown rim of her iris, like waves lapping up against the shore. Magica drew back and Minnie lifted her head.

“No.”

It took hardly more than a little twirl of her fingers for a stream of blue to leap from Minnie’s hands, flowing into every stream of dark and magic and transforming into something else entirely. The dark clouds began to change, began to take on a more fluid form. The thunder sounded more like crashing waves and the lightning looked like seafoam streaking across the sky, which had begun to bend, rising and falling and casting twisted fractals of light on the roots and the beings below. It looked as though the ocean itself had risen up to surround them, and now flowed suspended over their heads.

Magica scowled and let out a disbelieving, uncertain hiss. Minnie scowled back and, holding Magica’s stare, she reached her hand up to the sky.

Magica barked something, and the Sidhe all moved at once towards Minnie. But in that moment, a great downpour rained down from that ocean of sky. Raindrops that glimmered with the echoes of the past. And with each one that fell upon one of Magica’s Sidhe, the creature would hiss and screech and clutch at their head, until their tattered clothing melted into something beautiful, their wings regained a beautiful essence of color, and their eyes filled with the light of remembrance.

In an instant, Magica’s army was wiped out completely. Transformed, and overcome by a state of joy and laughter and disbelief as countless souls regained their being. The bonds on Minnie’s friends fell away and they, too, lost any remnant of dark magic that had begun to alter their forms.

Magica was surrounded.

She glanced about her, wide-eyed and furious, and couldn’t make so much as a move towards Minnie without several dozen faeries blocking her path, eager for revenge on the one who’d changed them so. Minnie herself stepped forward then, after a few moments of cherishing the sight of it all.

“Now’s your chance, Magica,” she uttered coldly. “Give up, put an end to all this chaos.”

For just a brief moment, the witch seemed willing to consider this. She drew in a sharp breath and glanced around her, eyes seeming to soften. But then they grew cold and icy once more, and she darted forward, pausing just in front of Minnie, who hardly flinched.

“Chaos?” she hissed quietly. “Darling, I thrive on chaos.” She flashed that sinister grin, and though Minnie felt stronger now, there was something about it that left her feeling helpless as ever. Her gaze faltered. “We’ll see how long you can keep this up, without your little friend beside you.”

She stretched out her hands and darkness pooled up around her. Minnie realized with a start that she was beginning to disappear, and reached out to grab her, but she was too late. Magica had vanished, leaving only the echoes of a screeching shout, a final foreboding promise lingering in the air.

“BEST OF LUCK, MY LITTLE PUPPETS! I’LL BE SEEING YOU ALL…VERY SOON.”

#y'all gotta give me grace on this chapter okay #I've been writing it for like a month and a half #I just couldn't get satisfied with it #ahhh wellllll #StoriesComeAlive #myth and magic #myth & magic #the mice #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #fanfiction #my writing

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